


In This Garden Where We Lie

by A_Tsundere_In_A_Sweater



Series: The Places We've Been [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: But they're also canon age as well halfway through, Kastor is mentioned once or twice but that's it, Kings Rising Spoilers, M/M, and there's Nikandros/Jord if you squint, for capriweek2k16, it's Damen/Laurent centric, kind of, this is basically completely fluff with like 5 lines of very very slight angst, writing these two as kids is the best thing ever, writing this was so much fun!!, young!Damen, young!Laurent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:36:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7832407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Tsundere_In_A_Sweater/pseuds/A_Tsundere_In_A_Sweater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Damen?” A quiet voice broke the silence. </p><p>“Yeah?” He asked, his voice equally soft. Laurent's face was scrunched up, and he was looking pointedly at the ground between them.</p><p>“Do you prefer the company of your brother or my brother, over my company?” Came the even quieter question.</p><p>“Of course I don't. You're my favorite person in the world after all,” Damen replied, a smile on his face. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>Day One of Captive Prince Week: Memories</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	In This Garden Where We Lie

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I managed to get something up in time for Captive Prince Week! It's a miracle, haha. This takes place in an AU of sorts, where there was no war. Damen and Laurent are still princes, but form a friendship at a young age. All of my pieces for Capriweek will tie together, and will be written in this same universe. So keep an eye out for those! We're going to get a good look into this universe this week, and I'm pumped! 
> 
> I'd also like to thank [Blue_wire13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_wire13) for the help with Laurent's character, the ending, and title brainstorming! You should definitely check out his fics! (He's doing Capriweek too!!)
> 
> So without further ramblings from me, here's some Lamen fluff.

It was summer in Vere, yet Damen noted that the weather was still much cooler than he was accustomed to. After all, in Akielos the weather was hot and humid year-round, and there were no major climatic changes to differentiate between seasons. Damen found that he didn't mind the soft warmth surrounding him here in Vere. In fact, he might even go as far as to say that it was more pleasant than the wet heat in his home country. It was nice to go outside for more than fifteen minutes without feeling uncomfortably damp and itching to change his chiton.

After sparring with Auguste, the fifteen-year-old Akielon prince found himself wandering around the palace gardens. No matter how many times he visited Arles, he was always drawn outdoors. Everything in Vere was still so foreign to him, despite having spent a large part of his childhood here. The scenery was much different in this kingdom compared to Akielos. After his numerous visits to the country, he had constructed quite a lengthy list of the two kingdoms' differences.

The palace gardens were large and impressive, and boasted a similarly grand variety of plant life. Everywhere Damen looked there were bursts of color, and pleasant fragrances were carried on the breeze. The scents became particularly strong when he neared the extensive herb garden. Vere had a good climate for growing herbs, helping it become the number one nation in the exporting of herbs.

He made his way to the rose gardens, and admired the vivacious blooms and sweet fragrances. Laurent often smelled of roses, and Damen had quickly discovered why. When the small prince wasn't occupied with studies or other princely duties, he could almost always be found reading in the rose garden. There was a bench hidden in a small clearing in the middle of a large group of roses. The secret area was the perfect size for two people, and was conveniently tucked away from prying eyes. Laurent had shown the hiding place to Damen three years ago, though only after making the older prince promise that he would keep its location a secret. Even years later, only the two princes knew of its existence.

Damen instinctively made his way to the hidden bench, not surprised to find it unoccupied. He remembered Laurent telling him that morning that he had lessons to attend in the evening. After their sparring session, Auguste had excused himself to go talk to his father, leaving Damen to his own devices. Dinner was to be served in an hour, and the Akielon prince decided that he would lie on the grass surrounding the bench until then.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his already well-tanned skin. Unlike Laurent, he didn't burn after prolonged exposure to the sun's rays. On a hot summer day about two years before, eight-year-old Laurent had pointed out that he was jealous of Damen's ability to spend hours in the sun without worrying about turning pink. Damen had laughed, and promised to valiantly protect Laurent from the sun.

In return, Laurent grumbled something about, “That's not how it works, you brute. I'm eight and even I know that.”

Damen chuckled at Laurent's reply, finding the young boy's attitude refreshing. No one back in Akielos would dare talk to him in such a way. Kastor was usually in a foul mood, and preferred not to acknowledge Damen. His best friend Nikandros, not being a prince himself, would joke around, but had never gone as far as to openly insult him. Even Auguste was kind to him, despite their being on the same level. However, Laurent was something else entirely. Although he was five years younger, he would blatantly call Damen demeaning names, and constantly insult every aspect of him. Only from Laurent would such things seem playful. It was nice to spend time with someone he could throw away all titles and pretenses with, and just act as himself.

“We've known each other for three years, yet you still insist on calling me a brute. I'll have you know that I am actually quite smart.”

“I doubt that. When was the last time you did something intelligent?” Laurent asked, raising an eyebrow challengingly.

“Just this morning!” Damen defended himself, after thinking for a moment. “I decided not to throw a grape at Auguste during breakfast. He was teasing me about mixing up the Veretian words for 'sheet' and 'giddy.' I could have thrown the grape at him, but I _smartly_ decided not to, because that's bad manners,” he explained, proud that he had come up with an example of a time just recently when he had been smart. He grinned, and waited for Laurent's approval.

“That doesn't make you smart at all,” the young prince stated. “In fact, I'd say that makes you stupid. You mixed up two words that don't even sound similar. That doesn't help your case at all. Besides, even a three-year-old knows not to throw things at the table. You've proven that you're about as smart as a toddler. That's a step down, even for you.”

Damen gaped at Laurent, wondering why he had become friends with someone who was so constantly judgmental. His features dropped into a pout, and his voice became sullen.

“You know, you're only eight. It's not healthy to be so cynical at your age.”

“You know, you're already thirteen. It's not healthy to be so dumb at your age,” Laurent quipped without batting an eye.

“Fine. Let's hear you say those two words in perfect Akielon,” Damen challenged the younger boy.

The blond prince quickly did so, and Damen pouted as he lost his second challenge that day.

Damen smiled fondly as he remembered that day two years ago. Though both he and Laurent were older now, neither of them had outgrown their playful banter, something Damen was exceedingly happy about.

Just as he felt himself falling asleep, the sun abruptly stopped shining, and the world seemed to darken. Blinking his eyes open, he looked up to see Laurent standing over him, blocking the sun.

“Hey,” Damen greeted, a smile on his face.

“Hello,” Laurent replied formally. From anyone else it would sound disinterested, but Damen knew the young boy well enough to know that he was pleased to see him as well.

“I thought you had lessons to attend,” Damen stated simply, tilting his head to the side, and silently questioning Laurent's unexpected presence.

“I finished quickly. I saw that you were not with Auguste and I was alarmed. I thought it unsafe for you to wander around alone while only possessing the mental functions of a five-year-old. You'd more than likely end up acting foolish and breaking something.” He replied monotonously. He sat down on the grass next to Damen, crossing his legs carefully and placing his hands in his lap. Damen wondered how he managed to do so, when Veretian clothing was so restricting. He had opted to wear chitons during his stay in Vere.

Damen frowned and laid back down on the grass, looking up at the sky. “I had thought we were past the days of demeaning my intelligence, though it appears not.”

“You hardly have enough intelligence to speak ill of,” came the quick reply.

“I'm wounded. Though you say you only associate yourself with those who are intelligent. What does that make me?” Damen questioned, turning back to face the younger boy. Laurent had turned to face him as well, and Damen watched as he delivered his answer with a straight face.

“A prince from a neighboring kingdom. I have to be nice to you, regardless of your obvious lack of a brain, remember?”

“Oh? I thought you honestly enjoyed my company,” Damen scoffed, and placed a hand to his chest in mock offense. Conversations like this were not uncommon between the two princes, and Damen had long ago learned that Laurent was never half as put out as he acted around Damen.

Laurent's tone was light, as was his reply. “I'm afraid not. You've been seriously mislead.”

Damen could practically _feel_ Laurent's smile, even if it didn't appear on the blond prince's face. He laughed, and silently praised Laurent's quick wit.

“You've put up with me for five years under false pretenses? I don't know whether I should be hurt or impressed. You must possess the patience of a god.”

Laurent gave a small sigh, and leaned back until he was lying on the ground facing Damen. “Perhaps I do. With you, I certainly need it. Now are you going to talk the whole time? I'm tired. My instructor gave me a new book to read, and it's written in Vaskian. It takes entirely too much time to get through, and it's incredibly dull.”

This caught Damen's attention. “You're able to speak Vaskian?”

“Of course. What kind of prince can't?” Laurent replied easily, and Damen was very much aware of the insult laced into the seemingly innocent words.

“I'm not going to answer that,” Damen muttered, and rolled onto his other side, facing away from Laurent in a fake pout.

“You're simply unable to because you're dumb,” Laurent told him, not bothering to sugarcoat the statement at all. His replies were beginning to get quieter.

Damen quickly rolled back over, and propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at the young prince. “I never said that I couldn't!” He protested.

“Well can you?”

“No...” He admitted, lowering himself back down and resting his head on his hands. He stared up at the sky, and watched as a few white clouds drifted lazily by.

“Tonight I'll read some of the book to you. If you manage to behave like a civilized person, I might even teach you a few words,” was Laurent's reply, followed by a small yawn. Damen chose to ignore the 'civilized person' jab.

“You act as if spending time with me is merely a chore,” He said sourly, glancing over at the boy he considered his friend. Laurent's eyes had closed, giving up on their battle to stay open, and he was turned to face Damen.

“It's not,” came the quiet reply. If Damen hadn't been listening, he likely wouldn't have heard it at all. He briefly thought that Laurent was actually quite nice when he was quiet and sleepy. At least his tongue wasn't nearly as sharp.

“Oh? I thought-” he began softly, not wanting to disturb the nearly sleeping prince.

“Shut your mouth, you savage,” Ah. There was the Laurent that Damen was used to. He supposed that the kindhearted, sleepy version of Laurent was too good to last.

They spent a few minutes like that, quietly lying in the shade, enjoying the other's silent company.

“Damen?” A quiet voice broke the silence, and Damen looked at Laurent with a question in his eyes.

“Yeah?” He asked, his voice equally soft. Laurent's face was scrunched up, and he was looking pointedly at the ground between them. Laurent looked like he had stumbled across a word he didn't understand, or was faced with something he found unpleasant. When Laurent didn't answer, Damen asked again.

“What's wrong?”

“Do you prefer the company of your brother or my brother, over my company?” Came the even quieter question, and Damen felt his heart drop into his stomach. He'd never heard Laurent sound so distressed and timid. He immediately decided that this wasn't a tone he ever wanted to hear from Laurent again. The blond hadn't moved, and was still lying facing Damen. However, when Damen had taken too long to answer, Laurent's features hardened, and he began to roll onto his other side, facing away from Damen.

Once Damen realized what was happening, his hand shot out and grabbed Laurent's wrist, halting him mid-roll. He shifted so that he was on his knees, and pulled Laurent up as well. They knelt there for a second, Laurent's gaze still as cold as ice.

“Hey,” Damen started, using his free hand to grab Laurent's other wrist. He leaned back on his feet so that they were eye to eye. “Of course I don't. You're my favorite person in the world after all,” he replied, a smile on his face.

Laurent knew he wasn't lying. Damen was practically incapable of telling a lie, and he thought to himself that this may one day be Damen's downfall. Laurent's icy facade broke, and a small smile found its home on his lips. He nodded his head and made a small, appreciative noise. Happy that Laurent was smiling, Damen nodded as well, and let go of one of Laurent's wrists, and made to lie back down, pulling Laurent down with him.

“You're tired, right?” he asked. Laurent nodded, eyes half-lidded. “Let's sleep then. We have time before dinner,” he offered. Laurent bobbed his head slightly in what must have been a nod, and shifted closer to Damen.

Unsurprisingly, Damen was the first to fall asleep – he always was. Laurent gave a sleepy smile, and looked at Damen one last time.

“I think...” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “You might be my favorite person too.”

And if they fell asleep in their hidden area under the shade of the roses, with the scent of the blossoms drifting around them sweetly, well, neither of them really minded. After all, dinner could wait.

 

******

 

Damen sighed for what felt like the millionth time in the past two hours, and looked up from the scrolls spread in front of him. He was trying to draft his monthly address to his subjects that he would be delivering in two days. Usually, he had no trouble finding the right words to say, though now he was struggling. This next speech would be one of his most important yet, as it marked the end of his first year as king of Akielos. His speech would also mark the beginning of the week-long celebration in his honor. He had ordered a palace servant to gather the records of all the previous rulers' speeches, hoping to gain some insight as to what he should say. That had been two hours ago, and all Damen had gleaned from the many scrolls was that all of his ancestors had made similar speeches, and nothing really applied to Damen's specific situation.

After all, as far as he knew, none of the previous kings' half-brothers had poisoned the last king, and then been thrown in prison. No, his circumstances were unique, and his reasons for taking the throne were very different from those of any previous Akielon rulers.

A knock as his door drew him from his thoughts.

“Enter,” he called, hoping that whoever came in, whether they be a servant or noble, would distract him from the loathsome task of speech-writing. He decided to take a break and return to it later, hoping that the right words would miraculously come to him. Leaning back in his seat, he waited for his visitor to enter.

The door opened quickly, and Damen was surprised to see a familiar figure standing in the doorway. He stood quickly from his chair, eyes wide and his face pale, as if having seen a ghost. A fair-skinned, blond, admittedly very handsome ghost.

Laurent gave a sly smirk, and casually entered Damen's chambers as if they were his own. He walked to the couch placed in the middle of the room and sat, crossing his legs with a certain grace that was so completely _Laurent_ , and turned his gaze back to the stunned king.

“I take it Nikandros kept his mouth closed,” he said smugly, enjoying the astonished look on Damen's face. Damen, who was always so headstrong and sure of himself, looked awfully shocked and hesitant, as if he still couldn't believe that Laurent was sitting on the couch in front of him.

“What...Nikandros...you...why-” Damen tried, desperately grasping for the words that were now eluding him.

It wasn't _unlike_ Laurent to do something such as this – for him to act unexpectedly, and carry on as if everything was going normally. After all, it was the game that he liked.

Watching as the king struggled for words, Laurent sighed.

“Breathe, Damen,” he said sweetly, though even a child could have sensed the antagonistic nature of the words.

“Why are you here?” Damen asked, gathering his thoughts, and forming them into a coherent sentence.

“Isn't it obvious?” Laurent responded, quirking a golden eyebrow up. “The celebration of your first year as king is about to start, and I'm betting that you've yet to start your speech, if the clutter on your table is anything to go by,” he answered, sweeping an arm to the left and gesturing to the mess of scrolls and parchment spread messily on Damen's desk.

“I _have_ attempted to start it,” Damen defended, crossing his arms in childish defiance.

He stayed silent, taking a moment to admire Laurent's appearance. He didn't seem to have gotten any taller, though he was sitting, making it difficult to know for sure. His hair was a bit longer, though not yet long enough to tie back, and not a hair was out of place. There was a certain air of maturity about him, even more so than usual, though Damen supposed that was to be expected. After all, the last time the two had seen each other was at Damen's coronation. A lot about a person could change in a year, especially when Laurent was still so young, being only twenty years old. His outfit appeared to be unwrinkled, leading Damen to believe that he had either come by horseback, and had already changed out of his riding leathers and into a fresh outfit, or he had come by ship.

“When did you arrive?” he inquired, moving to sit next to Laurent on the couch.

Laurent gave a small smile in response. “The ship entered the port around noon. It's evening now – do the math if you will,” he answered, his tone insinuating that Damen would be unable to complete the calculations.

“Very funny,” came the dead-pan reply. “Whose idea was it for you to come?”

Laurent answered with a question of his own. “Whose idea would you prefer it had been?”

“Laurent,” Damen said tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose. Hours of pouring over scrolls were beginning to take their toll, and Damen had to stifle a small yawn. Happy though he was that Laurent had traveled from Vere to join in the festivities, Damen was tired, and was not feeling up to playing Laurent's games. Especially not when he wasn't entirely focused.

Laurent sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. He was tired as well from the long voyage to Ios, though he was much better at hiding it.

“The idea was mine in a way,” he admitted. “Nikandros and Jord had been exchanging letters, you know how they are now,” Laurent paused, waiting for Damen to affirm.

Nikandros and Jord had met a few years prior, having both attended King Auguste of Vere's coronation. Nikandros had attended as a guard to the Akielon royal family, but had been reluctant to step foot in the country of Vere. He and Jord met by chance, and the two had a rocky first introduction, and a tentative friendship for a few weeks. However, by the time the Akielons were ready to depart Vere, the two had grown close, and promised each other in a broken conversation to keep in touch, and practice each other's language so that they could converse normally. At that point, their interactions had been largely reliant on vocal inflection, lots of pointing and other hand gestures, and the occasional translation done by either Laurent or Damen. Now Nikandros and Jord were both fairly fluent in both languages, and wrote letters regularly. Every once in a while though, Nikandros would come running up to Damen, his fingers stained in ink, asking how to say a word in Veretian.

When Damen nodded, Laurent continued, saying, “Nikandros wrote a few months back, mentioning the celebration of your first year as king, and Jord offhandedly mentioned it during a conversation. I wrote back to Nikandros, and we planned my visit. I told him not to tell you, and that I wanted it to be a surprise. I can see that everything went according to the plan,” he explained calmly, as if his visit was nothing special. Laurent was clearly unaware of just how much this meant to Damen.

Damen smiled widely, his eyes lighting up. He hadn't expected Laurent to come at all, much less plan all of this behind his back with Nikandros. It was in times like these when he realized just how hard he had fallen for the Veretian prince. Of course, he could never tell Laurent how he felt about him. They were different – Damen the king of Akielos, and Laurent the prince of Vere – and even the idea of a relationship between the two was laughable.

“Thank you,” Damen started, “Thank you for coming. It...it means a lot,” he finished. His words were simple, but he knew that Laurent understood.

Laurent's smile was soft, though his voice was infuriatingly confident as he said, “Of course it does. I am your favorite person after all.”

Damen blushed at that, remembering that day in the palace gardens of Arles, nearly ten years ago. He'd always held that memory close to his heart, and he would even go as far as to say that it was one of his favorites. The beautiful roses, the playful banter, the look on Laurent's face when Damen had told him that he liked his company best – all of those were things that he had vowed never to forget. However, he had always figured that Laurent, being much younger than him at the time, had forgotten it completely, though it appeared that wasn't the case.

“You remember that? That happened years ago after all. How do you know that hasn't changed?” he challenged, cursing his voice as it came out slightly breathless.

Laurent merely laughed, a sound that Damen had long ago chosen as his favorite, and looked Damen in the eye.

“Has it?” he asked in a way that suggested he already knew the answer. He shifted closer to Damen, right knee on the couch, and left leg hanging off the edge, foot on the floor. His hands were braced on the couch between his legs, and his head was tilted to the right.

Damen swallowed thickly, but stayed where he was. He looked Laurent in the eyes, and as confidently as he could manage, he answered, “No. It hasn't changed.”

“You know, I don't think I've ever met anyone able to fall asleep as quickly as you. It could even be considered a talent.”

Damen furrowed his brows, giving Laurent a confused look, silently asking where he was going with this.

“That day,” Laurent continued, “In the garden at Arles. You fell asleep before I could tell you something.”

“Tell me what?” Damen asked, still not understanding.

“You're...” Laurent started, trailing off. He looked unsure, hesitant, _tense_.

Damen reached out an grabbed one of Laurent's hands, taking it in his own, and rubbing small circles into his palm. He watched as Laurent visibly relaxed, and exhaled before taking another breath and continuing.

“You're my favorite person,” he finished, and Damen was surprised to see that Laurent wouldn't look him in the eye.

He had turned his face away in what might have been shyness, though Damen had never actually seen Laurent act shyly before, and could only guess that this is what he might look like. A light blush had settled on his cheeks, and Damen was surprised to see that the tips of Laurent's ears were pink as well. He decided to add Laurent's blush to the ever-growing list of his favorite things. It was cute, a stark contrast to most things about Laurent. He looked vulnerable.

For a split second, he saw ten year old Laurent, unsure and scared, fearing that he wasn't good enough for Damen. He remembers swearing that he would never let Laurent look that way again. Except that this time, Damen doubted that anything he had to say would help. Instead, he gathered up all the courage that he could. He raised his hand carefully, but with a confidence gave the illusion of knowing what he was doing. He didn't. He was acting purely on instinct.

Laurent looked at him then, a silent question in his eyes.

Instead of answering, Damen reached out to tuck a strand of golden hair behind Laurent's ear, his hand lingering there, and his thumb brushing over Laurent's cheek. He felt Laurent tense again, and Damen's hand continued rubbing small circles into the palm of Laurent's hand that he had yet to let go of. He reveled in a small feeling of success when he felt Laurent almost imperceptibly lean into the touch. They stayed like that for a moment, quiet breaths and loudly beating hearts, slow movements and racing thoughts.

Once Laurent's breathing evened out, Damen leaned in, pressing his lips softly to Laurent's. Feeling Laurent freeze once more, Damen pulled away, an apology already forming on his lips. Laurent sat silently, eyes wide, face flushed, breaths shallow. Damen bowed his head and let go of Laurent's hand. He sat there, in the silent room, fearing Laurent's response. He looked to Laurent, and watched as the prince thought. Damen felt as if he could see the gears moving in Laurent's head, trying to process what had happened, and already preparing a way to deal with it. He highly doubted that Laurent was capable of _not_ thinking. Just as Damen was about to begin his apology, Laurent spoke.

“Well, that wasn't _completely_ unsatisfactory,” he stated matter-of-factly. His eyes were light and playful, and Damen could see that he was fighting a small smile.

Damen sat there, stunned into silence, his apology dying away. After a moment he smiled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. If Laurent wanted satisfactory, then that is what he would receive. He chuckled before leaning back in and capturing Laurent's lips once more.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this, and check back tomorrow for the next installment of The Places We've Been series! I'm really excited, and I really hope you liked it! Feel free to leave feedback, whether it be praise or constructive criticism - I welcome all of it! 
> 
> My tumblr: [camels-on-wheels](http://camels-on-wheels.tumblr.com/)


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